<p>But let us defer the further correlation and subdivision of the subjects
of opinion and of intellect, for it will be a long enquiry, many times
longer than this has been.</p>
<p>As far as I understand, he said, I agree.</p>
<p>And do you also agree, I said, in describing the dialectician as one who
attains a conception of the essence of each thing? And he who does not
possess and is therefore unable to impart this conception, in whatever
degree he fails, may in that degree also be said to fail in intelligence?
Will you admit so much?</p>
<p>Yes, he said; how can I deny it?</p>
<p>And you would say the same of the conception of the good? Until the person
is able to abstract and define rationally the idea of good, and unless he
can run the gauntlet of all objections, and is ready to disprove them, not
by appeals to opinion, but to absolute truth, never faltering at any step
of the argument—unless he can do all this, you would say that he
knows neither the idea of good nor any other good; he apprehends only a
shadow, if anything at all, which is given by opinion and not by science;—dreaming
and slumbering in this life, before he is well awake here, he arrives at
the world below, and has his final quietus.</p>
<p>In all that I should most certainly agree with you.</p>
<p>And surely you would not have the children of your ideal State, whom you
are nurturing and educating—if the ideal ever becomes a reality—you
would not allow the future rulers to be like posts (Literally 'lines,'
probably the starting-point of a race-course.), having no reason in them,
and yet to be set in authority over the highest matters?</p>
<p>Certainly not.</p>
<p>Then you will make a law that they shall have such an education as will
enable them to attain the greatest skill in asking and answering
questions?</p>
<p>Yes, he said, you and I together will make it.</p>
<p>Dialectic, then, as you will agree, is the coping-stone of the sciences,
and is set over them; no other science can be placed higher—the
nature of knowledge can no further go?</p>
<p>I agree, he said.</p>
<p>But to whom we are to assign these studies, and in what way they are to be
assigned, are questions which remain to be considered.</p>
<p>Yes, clearly.</p>
<p>You remember, I said, how the rulers were chosen before?</p>
<p>Certainly, he said.</p>
<p>The same natures must still be chosen, and the preference again given to
the surest and the bravest, and, if possible, to the fairest; and, having
noble and generous tempers, they should also have the natural gifts which
will facilitate their education.</p>
<p>And what are these?</p>
<p>Such gifts as keenness and ready powers of acquisition; for the mind more
often faints from the severity of study than from the severity of
gymnastics: the toil is more entirely the mind's own, and is not shared
with the body.</p>
<p>Very true, he replied.</p>
<p>Further, he of whom we are in search should have a good memory, and be an
unwearied solid man who is a lover of labour in any line; or he will never
be able to endure the great amount of bodily exercise and to go through
all the intellectual discipline and study which we require of him.</p>
<p>Certainly, he said; he must have natural gifts.</p>
<p>The mistake at present is, that those who study philosophy have no
vocation, and this, as I was before saying, is the reason why she has
fallen into disrepute: her true sons should take her by the hand and not
bastards.</p>
<p>What do you mean?</p>
<p>In the first place, her votary should not have a lame or halting industry—I
mean, that he should not be half industrious and half idle: as, for
example, when a man is a lover of gymnastic and hunting, and all other
bodily exercises, but a hater rather than a lover of the labour of
learning or listening or enquiring. Or the occupation to which he devotes
himself may be of an opposite kind, and he may have the other sort of
lameness.</p>
<p>Certainly, he said.</p>
<p>And as to truth, I said, is not a soul equally to be deemed halt and lame
which hates voluntary falsehood and is extremely indignant at herself and
others when they tell lies, but is patient of involuntary falsehood, and
does not mind wallowing like a swinish beast in the mire of ignorance, and
has no shame at being detected?</p>
<p>To be sure.</p>
<p>And, again, in respect of temperance, courage, magnificence, and every
other virtue, should we not carefully distinguish between the true son and
the bastard? for where there is no discernment of such qualities states
and individuals unconsciously err; and the state makes a ruler, and the
individual a friend, of one who, being defective in some part of virtue,
is in a figure lame or a bastard.</p>
<p>That is very true, he said.</p>
<p>All these things, then, will have to be carefully considered by us; and if
only those whom we introduce to this vast system of education and training
are sound in body and mind, justice herself will have nothing to say
against us, and we shall be the saviours of the constitution and of the
State; but, if our pupils are men of another stamp, the reverse will
happen, and we shall pour a still greater flood of ridicule on philosophy
than she has to endure at present.</p>
<p>That would not be creditable.</p>
<p>Certainly not, I said; and yet perhaps, in thus turning jest into earnest
I am equally ridiculous.</p>
<p>In what respect?</p>
<p>I had forgotten, I said, that we were not serious, and spoke with too much
excitement. For when I saw philosophy so undeservedly trampled under foot
of men I could not help feeling a sort of indignation at the authors of
her disgrace: and my anger made me too vehement.</p>
<p>Indeed! I was listening, and did not think so.</p>
<p>But I, who am the speaker, felt that I was. And now let me remind you
that, although in our former selection we chose old men, we must not do so
in this. Solon was under a delusion when he said that a man when he grows
old may learn many things—for he can no more learn much than he can
run much; youth is the time for any extraordinary toil.</p>
<p>Of course.</p>
<p>And, therefore, calculation and geometry and all the other elements of
instruction, which are a preparation for dialectic, should be presented to
the mind in childhood; not, however, under any notion of forcing our
system of education.</p>
<p>Why not?</p>
<p>Because a freeman ought not to be a slave in the acquisition of knowledge
of any kind. Bodily exercise, when compulsory, does no harm to the body;
but knowledge which is acquired under compulsion obtains no hold on the
mind.</p>
<p>Very true.</p>
<p>Then, my good friend, I said, do not use compulsion, but let early
education be a sort of amusement; you will then be better able to find out
the natural bent.</p>
<p>That is a very rational notion, he said.</p>
<p>Do you remember that the children, too, were to be taken to see the battle
on horseback; and that if there were no danger they were to be brought
close up and, like young hounds, have a taste of blood given them?</p>
<p>Yes, I remember.</p>
<p>The same practice may be followed, I said, in all these things—labours,
lessons, dangers—and he who is most at home in all of them ought to
be enrolled in a select number.</p>
<p>At what age?</p>
<p>At the age when the necessary gymnastics are over: the period whether of
two or three years which passes in this sort of training is useless for
any other purpose; for sleep and exercise are unpropitious to learning;
and the trial of who is first in gymnastic exercises is one of the most
important tests to which our youth are subjected.</p>
<p>Certainly, he replied.</p>
<p>After that time those who are selected from the class of twenty years old
will be promoted to higher honour, and the sciences which they learned
without any order in their early education will now be brought together,
and they will be able to see the natural relationship of them to one
another and to true being.</p>
<p>Yes, he said, that is the only kind of knowledge which takes lasting root.</p>
<p>Yes, I said; and the capacity for such knowledge is the great criterion of
dialectical talent: the comprehensive mind is always the dialectical.</p>
<p>I agree with you, he said.</p>
<p>These, I said, are the points which you must consider; and those who have
most of this comprehension, and who are most steadfast in their learning,
and in their military and other appointed duties, when they have arrived
at the age of thirty have to be chosen by you out of the select class, and
elevated to higher honour; and you will have to prove them by the help of
dialectic, in order to learn which of them is able to give up the use of
sight and the other senses, and in company with truth to attain absolute
being: And here, my friend, great caution is required.</p>
<p>Why great caution?</p>
<p>Do you not remark, I said, how great is the evil which dialectic has
introduced?</p>
<p>What evil? he said.</p>
<p>The students of the art are filled with lawlessness.</p>
<p>Quite true, he said.</p>
<p>Do you think that there is anything so very unnatural or inexcusable in
their case? or will you make allowance for them?</p>
<p>In what way make allowance?</p>
<p>I want you, I said, by way of parallel, to imagine a supposititious son
who is brought up in great wealth; he is one of a great and numerous
family, and has many flatterers. When he grows up to manhood, he learns
that his alleged are not his real parents; but who the real are he is
unable to discover. Can you guess how he will be likely to behave towards
his flatterers and his supposed parents, first of all during the period
when he is ignorant of the false relation, and then again when he knows?
Or shall I guess for you?</p>
<p>If you please.</p>
<p>Then I should say, that while he is ignorant of the truth he will be
likely to honour his father and his mother and his supposed relations more
than the flatterers; he will be less inclined to neglect them when in
need, or to do or say anything against them; and he will be less willing
to disobey them in any important matter.</p>
<p>He will.</p>
<p>But when he has made the discovery, I should imagine that he would
diminish his honour and regard for them, and would become more devoted to
the flatterers; their influence over him would greatly increase; he would
now live after their ways, and openly associate with them, and, unless he
were of an unusually good disposition, he would trouble himself no more
about his supposed parents or other relations.</p>
<p>Well, all that is very probable. But how is the image applicable to the
disciples of philosophy?</p>
<p>In this way: you know that there are certain principles about justice and
honour, which were taught us in childhood, and under their parental
authority we have been brought up, obeying and honouring them.</p>
<p>That is true.</p>
<p>There are also opposite maxims and habits of pleasure which flatter and
attract the soul, but do not influence those of us who have any sense of
right, and they continue to obey and honour the maxims of their fathers.</p>
<p>True.</p>
<p>Now, when a man is in this state, and the questioning spirit asks what is
fair or honourable, and he answers as the legislator has taught him, and
then arguments many and diverse refute his words, until he is driven into
believing that nothing is honourable any more than dishonourable, or just
and good any more than the reverse, and so of all the notions which he
most valued, do you think that he will still honour and obey them as
before?</p>
<p>Impossible.</p>
<p>And when he ceases to think them honourable and natural as heretofore, and
he fails to discover the true, can he be expected to pursue any life other
than that which flatters his desires?</p>
<p>He cannot.</p>
<p>And from being a keeper of the law he is converted into a breaker of it?</p>
<p>Unquestionably.</p>
<p>Now all this is very natural in students of philosophy such as I have
described, and also, as I was just now saying, most excusable.</p>
<p>Yes, he said; and, I may add, pitiable.</p>
<p>Therefore, that your feelings may not be moved to pity about our citizens
who are now thirty years of age, every care must be taken in introducing
them to dialectic.</p>
<p>Certainly.</p>
<p>There is a danger lest they should taste the dear delight too early; for
youngsters, as you may have observed, when they first get the taste in
their mouths, argue for amusement, and are always contradicting and
refuting others in imitation of those who refute them; like puppy-dogs,
they rejoice in pulling and tearing at all who come near them.</p>
<p>Yes, he said, there is nothing which they like better.</p>
<p>And when they have made many conquests and received defeats at the hands
of many, they violently and speedily get into a way of not believing
anything which they believed before, and hence, not only they, but
philosophy and all that relates to it is apt to have a bad name with the
rest of the world.</p>
<p>Too true, he said.</p>
<p>But when a man begins to get older, he will no longer be guilty of such
insanity; he will imitate the dialectician who is seeking for truth, and
not the eristic, who is contradicting for the sake of amusement; and the
greater moderation of his character will increase instead of diminishing
the honour of the pursuit.</p>
<p>Very true, he said.</p>
<p>And did we not make special provision for this, when we said that the
disciples of philosophy were to be orderly and steadfast, not, as now, any
chance aspirant or intruder?</p>
<p>Very true.</p>
<p>Suppose, I said, the study of philosophy to take the place of gymnastics
and to be continued diligently and earnestly and exclusively for twice the
number of years which were passed in bodily exercise—will that be
enough?</p>
<p>Would you say six or four years? he asked.</p>
<p>Say five years, I replied; at the end of the time they must be sent down
again into the den and compelled to hold any military or other office
which young men are qualified to hold: in this way they will get their
experience of life, and there will be an opportunity of trying whether,
when they are drawn all manner of ways by temptation, they will stand firm
or flinch.</p>
<p>And how long is this stage of their lives to last?</p>
<p>Fifteen years, I answered; and when they have reached fifty years of age,
then let those who still survive and have distinguished themselves in
every action of their lives and in every branch of knowledge come at last
to their consummation: the time has now arrived at which they must raise
the eye of the soul to the universal light which lightens all things, and
behold the absolute good; for that is the pattern according to which they
are to order the State and the lives of individuals, and the remainder of
their own lives also; making philosophy their chief pursuit, but, when
their turn comes, toiling also at politics and ruling for the public good,
not as though they were performing some heroic action, but simply as a
matter of duty; and when they have brought up in each generation others
like themselves and left them in their place to be governors of the State,
then they will depart to the Islands of the Blest and dwell there; and the
city will give them public memorials and sacrifices and honour them, if
the Pythian oracle consent, as demigods, but if not, as in any case
blessed and divine.</p>
<p>You are a sculptor, Socrates, and have made statues of our governors
faultless in beauty.</p>
<p>Yes, I said, Glaucon, and of our governesses too; for you must not suppose
that what I have been saying applies to men only and not to women as far
as their natures can go.</p>
<p>There you are right, he said, since we have made them to share in all
things like the men.</p>
<p>Well, I said, and you would agree (would you not?) that what has been said
about the State and the government is not a mere dream, and although
difficult not impossible, but only possible in the way which has been
supposed; that is to say, when the true philosopher kings are born in a
State, one or more of them, despising the honours of this present world
which they deem mean and worthless, esteeming above all things right and
the honour that springs from right, and regarding justice as the greatest
and most necessary of all things, whose ministers they are, and whose
principles will be exalted by them when they set in order their own city?</p>
<p>How will they proceed?</p>
<p>They will begin by sending out into the country all the inhabitants of the
city who are more than ten years old, and will take possession of their
children, who will be unaffected by the habits of their parents; these
they will train in their own habits and laws, I mean in the laws which we
have given them: and in this way the State and constitution of which we
were speaking will soonest and most easily attain happiness, and the
nation which has such a constitution will gain most.</p>
<p>Yes, that will be the best way. And I think, Socrates, that you have very
well described how, if ever, such a constitution might come into being.</p>
<p>Enough then of the perfect State, and of the man who bears its image—there
is no difficulty in seeing how we shall describe him.</p>
<p>There is no difficulty, he replied; and I agree with you in thinking that
nothing more need be said.</p>
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